Moonseed
by lonelightlilith
Summary: Hermione, like so many before her, has been hoodwinked by the Dark Lord. These are dark times; will she be saved? And can she perhaps begin to save someone in return?
1. Chapter 1

**Moonseed Poison**

In the darkness, the castle seemed wild; all corridors and corners, deadly and alive and waiting to pounce. Hermione tried to silence her breathing from beneath the silvery folds of Harry's Invisibility Cloak, but the tension in her frightened chest made it near impossible. She had successfully managed to steal the cloak with a murmured 'Accio Invisibility Cloak!', but her success was only serving to irritate her conscience further. She had never been on a midnight mission without Ron and Harry's knowledge, and though she felt she had to do this alone, quickly, it felt wrong and almost shameful.

She came to the top of the staircase that descended into the dungeons, and looked down, strangely horrified. After a few steps her vision was swallowed by darkness, and even her ragged breaths were echoing off the stone walls. Hermione shivered, mentally gathering the scattered pieces of her Gryffindor courage, and started the slow, painful descent. Her unseen footsteps were repeatedly caught and thrown from surface to stone surface in the blackness. She swallowed and kept walking.

Finally, her foot met with even ground and, after an automatic inhalation of surprise, Hermione gingerly reached out a hand and groped through the cloak for the huge dungeon door. Her fingers met only air, even as she stumbled forward and forward. With a small groan of irritation, she frustratedly threw off the cloak and bundled it into a little beaded bag hanging from her wrist, and whispered 'Lumos!' The tip of her wand ignited and she looked upwards to see Professor Snape stood inches from her inside the open dungeon door, his obsidian eyes and hair lit by her wand and looking straight at her. With a shrill scream of terror, Hermione leapt backwards and fell over the final stair, landing with a crack of her head across the stone steps. Her wand flew from her hand, creating golden flashes and sharp shadows as it fell. The last thing she saw before her consciousness failed was Snape swooping, more bat-like than ever, towards her with those ever-unreadable black eyes widened.


	2. Chapter 2

'Miss Granger.'

Hermione's eyelids flickered and she became aware of a small blurry shimmer. A wave of nausea hit her and she groaned and allowed her eyes to close fully.

'Miss Granger, open your eyes immediately. That is an order.'

With all her failing strength, Hermione forced open her eyes. The world to her was blurry and nauseating, but slowly she became aware of the glimmer of candles floating above Snape's head, and Snape himself bent over her, brandishing his wand and staring at her with his usual curled lip. She sighed and attempted to move her limbs, but to no avail.

'Unfortunately, before I condemn you to the inevitable stream of well-deserved detentions, I must ascertain whether you are quite well. Are you?'

Hermione looked at him blankly, eyes still fuzzy and still unable to move.

'Granger, if you do not answer me immediately I will have to presume that you are rendered incapable of speech and sensible thought, and send you to Professor Dumbledore.'

'I.. I'm sorry Professor. I think I'm ok.'

'Excellent,' Snape responded with a thin-lipped sneer, 'because, as little as I care for your personal health, it would be considered extremely suspicious was I to have a Gryffindor student die in my arms.'

Hermione's eyes flew wide open as she, for the first time, registered her situation. The candles cast a glow over their heads and softly illuminated the scene; her sardonic Potions Master had one blood-covered hand on his wand and the other underneath her body and around her waist as he knelt crookedly over her. They became simultaneously aware of both the implications of his words, and the intimacy of their situation. With an attempt at his usual coolness Snape smoothly withdrew himself from her and stood. Hermione, with flaming cheeks, raised herself into a seated position, only to realise that the pain was too great and the dimly lit dungeon was spinning madly. She slumped back down onto the floor, suppressing a whimper. Snape regarded her briefly, face like marble, then abruptly swooped away, towards the store cupboard.

'What are you doing, Professor?'

'Granger, as well aware of the fact that you are an insufferable know-it-all that I am, I hardly think it is your place to ask questions, given your current situation. You would be well advised to be quiet, and at once.'

Hermione flinched at how near to serious trouble she seemed to be, and looked up towards the ceiling, with tiny tears sliding silently out of her eyes and fracturing the candlelight into thousands of golden shards. The soft hiss of a cauldron soon distracted her from her solitary misery, and she painstakingly raised herself onto her elbow to see what was happening. Snape was stood over his cauldron, expertly flicking his wand at various bottles and ingredients at breakneck speed, which were in turn jumping and weaving their way into the sighing cauldron. Snape's lips were taut and a muscle was routinely twitching in his jaw. At length, without raising his eyes from his work, he drawled, 'you seem to have forgotten, Miss Granger, that as a teacher of Hogwarts I am well practiced in the magical arts.'

'Oh no, Professor, not-'

'Do not interrupt me. One of the arts upon which I particularly pride myself is Legilimency. I trust you know what that is, and recall my affinity for it.'

'Yes, Professor, Legilimency is-'

'Are you never quiet?'

'Well-'

'You have answered my question. Enough. As I was saying before you rudely interrupted, I am a highly skilled Legilimens. I trust you know what this implies, Miss Granger?'

Hermione lowered her eyes in silence.

'I will take your unusually out-of-character muteness as a yes. And may I add that your ridiculous behaviour both surprises and disappoints me.'

Hermione raised her eyes in vague shock. 'Disappoints, sir?'

Snape still had his eye trained upon his potion, with a sneer of disgust clearly evident upon his face. 'Yes, Granger. Disappoints. Despite the fact that you are endlessly irritating, you are also an intelligent witch and I expected better from one of my students, Gryffindor or not. I also suggest that you consider practicing the art of Occlumency. Your mind is pitifully easy to delve into at will.'

Hermione did not respond, but merely lay her head against the cold dungeon floor, blinking rapidly to stop her tears.


	3. Chapter 3

'Miss Granger, I require your assistance as to the exact nature of the poison you consumed. I am concocting an antidote.'

'You… you are?'

'Of course, Granger, stupid child. What else would I be creating at the dead of night with a student expiring on the floor? An Alihosty Draught? Or tea, perhaps?'

'Wait… what? What are… what do you mean? Expiring?'

Hermione pushed herself up on both her elbows and stared at Snape, eyes wide with fear. He stared coldly back over his cauldron.

'Yes, Granger. You are dying, and rapidly. You have poisoned yourself.'

With that he swept from behind his desk and towards her in his billowing, graceful way. Before she could utter a word his arms were beneath her and she was lifted clean off the ground. She gave a little squeak of surprise and automatically clung around his neck. The candles bobbed out of their way as they swept past, towards the desk. Snape placed Hermione gently on a stool next to the cauldron and kept one hand firmly around her waist to steady her. Weak as she had become, it was all she could do to stay upright and not lean exhaustedly into her Professor's body. He, despite the arm around her waist, was leaning as far away from Hermione as possible with a slight curl of the lips, as if to even be close to her caused him extreme personal distaste.

'Miss Granger. What were you attempting to create?'

With a humiliated sigh, Hermione looked into the darkness of the ground whilst answering, 'well… some sort of Beautification Potion. Sir.'

Snape swiftly turned his head, looked straight into her face, and back to his desk without saying a word. He removed the arm from around her waist and picked up his wand, flicking it towards the store cupboard and murmuring under his breath. Several ingredients came zooming towards him.

'Well. You ridiculously foolish child. It would appear that you have succeeded in creating a Moonseed Poison instead. Luckily for you, I can make an antidote.'

'I… thank you. I'm very grateful.'

'I must ask a question. How did _you_, the perfect Miss Granger, manage to get it wrong? Were you under the influence of Firewhisky? Or perhaps a Befuddlement Draught?'

'No… No, Professor. I…'

'Spit it out, girl.'

Hermione winced in embarrassment. 'The recipe belonged to a lady we were talking to in Hogsmeade, in The Three Broomsticks. She said she worked in Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions in Diagon Alley, and this was a new formula that… Well.' Hermione paused, before saying quietly, 'that made the drinker irresistible to the person their heart desired the most.'

'I see. And you clearly foolishly believed that she would indulge such secrets so freely.'

'Actually… she left the piece of parchment behind on her chair. I thought… I was going to send it back via owl in the morning, honestly I was, but… I suppose my vanity got the better of me. I wanted to try it, I didn't think. I was blinded by the idea of it.'

Snape raised an eyebrow as he delicately measured out powdered dandelion root. 'So. In the midst of times such as these, you believed that an unknown woman would tell you the most intimate secrets of her latest potion and then leave behind the key to said potion for your free usage. I highly doubt even Longbottom would be so hopelessly naive. Why don't you just walk straight into the line of the Dark Lord's wand? That is how easy you made such simple sabotage.'

'I know, Professor, I am aware of how stupid I...'

'Don't interrupt me. Are you never quiet? There's nobody to show off to, Granger, and you can rest assured that I remain unimpressed by your seemingly constant need to affirm to everybody that you are able to recite a few simplistic facts from memory. Might I add that for one so apparently 'intelligent', you have indeed picked your friends unwisely. You are aware, of course, that aside from your... _heritage,_ shall we say, you are also at risk due to your choice of friendship group. You know, of course, to whom I refer. I will of course be informing your Head of House about this.'

'Yes, Professor...'

'How do you feel?'

'Erm… Strange, Professor. But in no more pain than I was before.'

Her usually high-pitched voice was merely a monotone. Snape slowly turned his head and looked at Hermione, taking in her paleness and her slightly shaking limbs. Soon, he knew, depending on how much of the poison she consumed, she would fall into what felt like a dream, and would never wake up. He waited for irritation to hit him; this was a ceaselessly annoying Gryffindor, out of bed at night, wasting his precious time with dying and such nonsense.

But none came. Her ill-fated attempt to make herself more beautiful struck a chord somewhere deep within him; it was something he could not express, but the tragically vulnerable look in her eyes was, for the first time in years, stirring his heart and the increased beating felt almost painful. In this light, in some angles, her hair looked almost auburn, and he was overwhelmingly reminded of a moment from his own stormy adolescence:

_The young Severus was sat, fiddling with his cloak nervously, in the hospital wing._

_'Go AWAY, Sev!' came the high-pitched, slightly hysterical order from behind a curtain in front of him._

_'No. I want to make sure you're alright.'_

_'I don't want you to see me like this.'_

_Severus sighed and remained silent. Presently Madame Pomfrey bustled along, younger and thinner, but her matronly self all the same, and cheerfully pulled the curtain back to evaluate her patient. The teary-eyed teenage girl behind it screamed and glared from her to Severus, embarrassment painted all over her disfigured face._

_'The swelling is going down now, Lily', Madame Pomfrey said briskly. 'You'll be back to normal in no time. But next time you try anything of the sort, don't expect me to help you out, young lady. That face is pretty enough as it is, don't insult your own intelligence by trying to mess with it.'_

_Severus stared at Lily. Lily stared at Severus. Her eyes had this look about them; tragic, vulnerable, but stubborn and embarrassed by her own behaviour at the same time._

_'I told you, Sev. I told you it was hideous. Please don't tell anyone, ok? Especially not that Malfoy boy or any of your other horrible Slytherin friends.'_

_Severus looked at her hopelessly. She looked back, defensive, beautifully insecure._

_'I... Ok. I promise I won't tell anyone.'_

_'Thanks, Sev. I'm... I'm sorry. I guess I'm sorta embarrassed.'_

_'It's ok.' Lily smiled and went to reach for a book beside her bed. 'For what it's worth...' She looked up with wide eyes, looking at him expectantly. 'I... I think you look fine.'_

_She grinned and leaned over to place an innocent kiss on his cheek._

Suddenly, his sharp words, of which he was usually so proud, were cutting his tongue to shreds on their inevitable way out. He shivered, trying to shake off the feeling, and dragged his eyes back to his cauldron with panic rising in his chest and constricting his throat.


	4. Chapter 4

Several minutes of silence passed. Hermione watched in fascination as Snape worked his magic, and various shades of silver and gold vapour drifted out of the cauldron. It was beautiful and mysterious and she felt herself being drawn into his art and its delicate beauty. As she continued to stare into the vapours, she began to feel a dreamy lightness in her entire body. Snape was moving in slower and slower motion and every noise was becoming fainter and more ethereal. She began to float backwards, without gravity or mass to hinder her.

Snape cursed as he turned to see Hermione's face drain of what little colour it had and her body become lifeless. He rushed forward and caught her with one arm before she toppled to the ground, and placed his other arm underneath her knees, lifting her off the chair. He then sat down on the floor of the dungeons, Hermione across his lap and her heavy head in his hand. With a few deft movements of his wand, he commanded a small silver goblet to dip itself into the simmering cauldron and place itself in his hand. As Hermione's body supported itself less and less, Snape's hands began to shake as he attempted to coax his antidote into her mouth. His fear was rising with every second and suddenly it was the most important thing in the world that he saved the life of this brilliant, delicate witch that he knew so shamefully little about.

'Come on Hermione, come on…' he murmured as, bit by bit, he poured droplets of the silvery liquid through her lips. Fine lines of potion poured out of the corners of her mouth as her head lolled backwards. Snape gritted his teeth and painstakingly emptied the goblet one droplet at a time into her mouth, before dropping it and wrapping both arms around her lifeless body, still supporting her head, and watching her desperately. She was no longer moving. Like Snow White, she was perfect in her stillness, and Snape's panic gave way under thorough, bone-shaking despair as he acknowledged it, and the fact that it was too late to tell her how little she needed the potion she had destroyed herself trying to make. His head dropped hopelessly forward and his cheek rested against hers as he gently rocked her in his arms.

A few minutes passed. The only sound in the dungeon was the echo of Snape's rapid broken breathing, and occasionally a noise, barely human, that ripped from his throat.

Slowly, Hermione became to come round. Her faint heartbeat became stronger, her eyelids fluttered open and her breathing resumed normally. She awoke to find herself cradled in the arms of her cool, collected Potions Master, his cheek brushing hers, quietly moaning in distress. She carefully roused herself and said 'Professor… I…'

Snape whipped his head upwards and stared at her, vague horror visible on his white face. They kept each other's gaze and Snape's grip did not slacken. Hermione, breathless and confused, whispered 'I'd… I… Thank you, for…'

Snape shook his head and breathed back 'Granger, are you never… do you never stop…'

She shook her head, lips slightly parted, eyes still focused on his. Suddenly, without warning, he let go of her and stood hurriedly, robes tangling in his haste. Hermione found herself on the floor, once again, in the shadow of her Professor, watching as his face became contorted with fury and he hissed at her, 'you must NEVER do anything so ridiculous again, stupid, reckless girl. I need you to assure me that this will never happen again.'

Hermione merely gawped at him, alarmed by the abrupt change in atmosphere. 'But…'

'No, Granger. Do not dare contradict me. You are merely extremely lucky, just like the Potter boy you seem to esteem so much. If I hadn't have been here, which I so rarely am at this time of night, you would've been found dead in the morning. You are incredibly fortunate that I happened to be down here working upon Professor Dumbledore's orders. And, might I add, incredibly stupid for believing the tale of an old woman in a pub in times such as these. You are a target, Miss Granger. Your closeness to the Potter boy makes you so. What an excellent friend he must be, for you to allow him to put your life at such constant risk just by being his friend. I cannot understand it. He gets more like his _father _every single day. He, too, had a blatant disregard for the delicate lives of infinitely better people who, for reasons I cannot fathom, loved him undeservedly.'

'You seem… Why are you so…'

The Professor silenced her with the most intense glare she had ever received. She swallowed nervously and awkwardly stood up, so that she was face to face with Snape, albeit a metre away. He, blank-faced and furious, plunged his hand into his robes, retrieved her wand, and held it out for her to take. She took an unsteady step forward, eyes nervously lowered from Snape's face. Then, as she got close, he moved, smoothly, quickly, and she was all of a sudden caught in his arms with his lips on hers. In her glorious surprise, Hermione was as helpless as she had been under the influence of the Moonseed Poison, and Snape, feeling no resistance in the body pressed against his, and the little hands pressed so appealingly to his chest, lifted her clean off her feet once again, all the while kissing her furiously.

After an endless moment, he put her back on her feet, breathing hard. The two looked at each other, attempting to figure out what had just happened. Snape wordlessly handed her her wand and stalked to the dungeon door. Hermione, terrified and in wonder all at once, followed meekly behind. At the door he let her pass, still in silence, as she hurried past him and bent down to retrieve her little beaded bag, with the Invisibility Cloak concealed within it.

'Hermione…'

She half-turned, awestruck, eyes wide, at the vulnerable sound of her first name coming from the lips of the cold, seemingly cruel Professor who had just kissed her so desperately.

'I didn't… that is to say, I had not the faintest idea. Not until I thought you were lost.'

Hermione turned fully to face him, mouth open in shock and mind whirling at the implication of what he was saying.

'This must remain between the two of us. That is an order. I must… I command, as your Potions Master, that you begin to take Occlumency lessons.'

'Alright. From whom can I…'

'With… with me. First lesson is tomorrow, 9pm sharp.' He swallowed as he looked at her, frozen in place, hair still a little matted with blood from her fall. 'With me, Hermione.'

Hermione nodded frantically, speechlessly, barely able to look her Professor in the eye in the half-light, before padding quickly up the stairs and into blackness. Snape stood and watched, long after she had escaped his gaze, motionless and blank-faced as ever, with no trace of what had just happened in those unreadable obsidian eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

'As if we have double potions _first thing in the morning. _They wouldn't even subject them to that at Durmstrang.'

Hermione barely looked up from the book on her knee before snapping, 'Ronald, honestly. Are you never quiet?'

Ron looked at her and didn't respond. Fractious explosions from her had become increasingly common of late. These he didn't mind so much; as exam time drew near, it was to be expected, along with many slightly hysterical outbreaks of tears if anyone dared to so much as jog her elbow as she made notes. What was more unusual were the stretches of anywhere from five minutes to hours where she seemed vacant. If her mind was unemployed by social interaction, studying, or some task that required straightforward concentration, it now seemed to spiral off into a world that he couldn't reach. Her usually unfailing engagement and intrigue with the world around her was dissipating daily, usually only to be ended by an outburst of frustration or some sudden decision that took place deep within her mind, at which point she would either jump out of her seat, shaking her head with a small cry of frustration, or a look nothing short of possessed determination. Ron being Ron, however, he shrugged and shoved aside the uneasiness in his mind with a gulp of pumpkin juice and a mouthful of bacon. By the time he had chewed and swallowed, his apprehension had been wrestled back into the box in his mind from whence it came.

A fluttering alerted them to the arrival of the mail, and quick footsteps and a 'Hey guys' of the arrival of Harry. A small tawny owl dropped an parchment envelope in front of Hermione. She did not react immediately, but remained absorbed in whatever book was on her lap. Hedwig landed on Harry's shoulder and dropped a pink, strongly scented card into his hands. He groaned and nervously surveyed the Great Hall.

'Ha! No way have you got another one, mate! You're gonna have to hire a bodyguard. Or a house-elf, to carry all of Miss Mystery's love letters around for you', Ron projected, with particular emphasis on the words _house-elf_, to try and break through Hermione's concentration and capture her attention for himself, but to no avail. She remained motionless, bloodshot eyes racing backwards and forwards, moving only to turn a page.

Finally, as the conversation with a vaguely embarrassed Harry drew into comfortable silence, Ron's desperation got the better of him and he reached out a hand to the letter, saying, 'Hermione, this has come for-'

Without warning, there was a flash and Ron withdrew his hand with a howl. Hermione stuffed her wand back in her robes, along with the letter, and abruptly left the table, hugging her book to her chest. Small disturbances such as these were fairly common, especially at the Slytherin table, so there were no more than flickers of eyes and mouths in reaction to what had happened. Harry, however, stared open-mouthed at Ron, who was cursing and nursing his hand which was rapidly deflating back to its normal size.

'What the hell was that about?'

Ron shrugged, surly and hurt. 'How the bloody hell should I know. She's literally the moodiest cow I've ever met. Come on. Better go before Snape has a go at exploding some part of my anatomy as well.'

From the other end of the room, a pair of narrowed eyes watched them walk away.


End file.
